


Pinned

by banquos_ghost



Series: Mad About The Boy [11]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Game Spoilers, Smut, Some Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banquos_ghost/pseuds/banquos_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minutemen or Institute?  It's decision time.</p><p>"Nora turned, made shushing noises as they stepped over the threshold of the room, hearing Shaun conferring with his Doctor. A nice little tableau that he had obviously set up with the express intention of being overhead. <em>What a fucking amateur.</em> MacCready felt his nerves ease slightly. He knew Shaun was a formidable enemy, but really? That old chestnut, letting them <em>accidentally, on purpose</em> overhear his confidential communication? He'd seen better tactics in a Grognak comic. The thought allowed MacCready a wry smile, a return to full confidence."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Furniture Shifting

**Author's Note:**

> Carries straight on chronologically from part 9 (part 10 was a flashback)

Nora woke thinking she had died and gone to heaven. Beside her in the comfortable Institute bed was MacCready, warm and naked. She had everything she wanted, right there within her grasp. MacCready, the Institute... and a hot shower.

Then she remembered. The happiness was illusionary. MacCready was here under sufferance. It had taken a near death experience to bring him to this place. She was under obligation to destroy the Institute. To destroy her son. Well, you can't have it all I suppose.

Nora's musing was brought to an abrupt end by MacCready waking. Not for him dazed stumbling into reality. He was a Wastelander born and bred, he woke to instant alertness and full awareness, wrestling with the unfamiliar controls on the bedside light. And now he was out of the bed. Stark bollock naked and re-arranging the furniture. Nora frowned. Maybe she was still dreaming after all. She sat up slightly in the bed, gathering the sheets around her to protect her modesty. MacCready was in the act of dragging the sofa over to the door.

'Mac, what the _hell_ are you doing?' Nora could contain her curiosity no longer.

'Just trying to get a bit of privacy.. you do realise that anyone could walk into this room at anytime... Just like I did last night?' MacCready grinned as if he had entirely justified his naked furniture shifting.

Nora shrugged. There was some sort of method in his madness, but he had all the subtlety of a brick through a window. 'Urrr, OK, but you do realise that all that bumping around is more likely to attract people than repel them?'

'I'll take my chances...' MacCready, apparently satisfied that the door had enough impediments around it to prevent the entry of an intruder, hopped back into the bed.

Once he was back in the bed it didn't take him long to take advantage of the hastily arranged 'privacy'. His hands were roaming Nora's body with a practiced ease that made her shudder with anticipation. 'So.. you fully recovered?' Nora took advantage of a lull in their caresses to check-in.

'Never better,' MacCready was in earnest, whatever those Institute doctors had done to cure him had worked almost magically. 'And now, I'm going to show you how recovered I am by making you glad I moved that sofa in front of the door. Trust me, you won't want any interruptions..'

Nora's eyes widened. MacCready was back to his old self, they were back on familiar ground, him taking the lead, her glad to be lead. She'd missed this and she hadn't even realised how much. 

MacCready had something to prove, to himself, to Nora. The urge to bring Nora back to him, to remind her, to show her, to make himself unassailable again was filling him with desire. He pushed the sheets back from the bed, exposing Nora's nakedness. 

Nora stared up at the ceiling, oh God, what was he going to do? Maybe she should resist, they were still in the Institute, still exposed and vulnerable. In more ways than one. Her thoughts were brought up short, as the sensation of MacCready's tongue meandering down her neck drove all other thoughts away. By the time his mouth had reached her breasts she would have killed anyone trying to intrude and stop him.

MacCready lingered over Nora's breasts, his tongue circling the nipples, Nora's reactions predictable, familiar. Time to surprise her, time to channel all those hours waiting for her, thinking about her. He moved downwards, and gently pushed Nora's legs apart. Not that they needed much encouragement they separated before him, open sesame, _it's MacCready and I'm back_ , Nora squirmed and sighed, expectation and desire in the way she murmured his name. 

It was too early in the morning for this, far too early. Time was irrelevant at the Institute, a world of artificial lights and enforced routines, but still, Nora's body protested. Too early, too early to feel MacCready's warm breath on her thighs. She should ask him to stop, but oh God, his beard was scuffing her skin now, she was helpless, so turned on it was ridiculous. Biting down on her lip to prevent the inevitable moans as his nose bumped the sensitive skin and her rising libido started to steal rational thoughts from her. Taking his time, his tongue skirting around her clit. Flitting with a barely perceptible tremor, almost there, almost gone. A will-o-the-wisp, back and forth, touching then gone, before returning, millimetres away, but never where she craved it the most. The whole world reduced to the warmth in her groin, the desperate need for his tongue to flick her nub, to release the pent up tension building and growing. 

She rocked her hips, a ploy to bring MacCready's attention where she needed it. She failed, he merely grasped her hips, made her take his teasing tongue with no prospect of release, just pleasure piled on pleasure, until she felt as if she would kill him if he didn't bring her to orgasm now. Still, he played her expertly, possessed of some intuition that knew when to move his tongue, to fan his breath over her and build her up. She gasped as his tongue touched her nub. The lightest of touches, the gentlest of licks, but her whole body felt as if it was on fire. As swiftly as the light pressure had set her aflame it was gone, She needed more, needed friction, needed his cock, needed something. 

Her voice as low as she could manage she begged him, implored him. He heard, she knew he heard, felt the low rumble of his chuckle spread through her, almost enough to tip her over, almost, but not quite. And he knew it. 'Missed me did you?' he broke away from her long enough to enjoy his moment of triumph.

'Yes, damn you, yes....' Nora gritted her teeth, still the same MacCready, still the arrogant cocky bastard loving to hear her beg for him. Which she did. Unashamedly, purely, over and over, he'd won. He knew it and Nora bit back her screams as his tongue throbbed against her clit, her orgasm wrenched from her in wave after wave of contractions and white heat.

As he felt Nora shake with release, MacCready's triumph and lust possessed him. Moving up the bed he kissed Nora on the mouth, the taste of her still on him. She tilted her hips upwards, offering her pussy to him, irresistibly. 

With a long drawn exhalation he eased his cock into her, smoothly and easily, the warmth of her enclosing him. The switch in sensations as his cock filled her, pushing against her walls made Nora sigh and grasp his butt cheeks, pushing him down into her as far as she could. For a few moments they stayed like this, motionless, eyes gazing at each others faces. Normality restored. 

Nora's eyes closed as she released her vice like grip, and MacCready's hips started to thrust. His momentum built, and there she was again, swallowing back her moans as the tempo built and he pounded her into the yielding mattress.

As MacCready thrust, his eyes closed as the sensations overwhelmed his senses. This place, this bed, all unfamiliar. Nora beneath him, her pussy clamping and pulsating around his cock his focus and also his undoing. With a deep guttural groan he lost himself to his orgasm, his cock pulsing as he buried himself deep within Nora, his head thrown back. 

'Ma'am' the voice cut through the air. As one MacCready and Nora turned their eyes to the source of the speech. 

X6-88 was standing by the bed. His emotionless face regarding the post-coital pair. Nora blushed furiously and gathered the sheets around her. 

MacCready felt fury rise in him, chasing away his post orgasmic bliss. 'What the fucking fuck? Get out... How did you even get in here?'

X6-88 sneered and gesticulated at the upturned sofa. 'Please, I'm a courser, trained in all aspects of combat. Do you really think a _sofa_ would stop me?'

X6-88 hurled a laundry bag he was carrying in MacCready's direction. 'There's your clothes in there, _Sir_. All freshly laundered and repaired for you. They would have been done sooner but they had to be re-washed at least 3 times before they were even close to clean'

Nora felt a little piece of her die inside. X6-88 continued to stare down at the duo in the bed. 'Ma'am, Father would like to see you, and your _friend_ as soon as it's _convenient_.'


	2. Father,(the Son), and MacCready's Toast

Covering the short distance to Father's rooms from Nora's was an eye opening experience for MacCready. His eyes felt as if they were worn out from the dazzling shiny clean surfaces everywhere that he looked. The recycled air was stifling and he longed to see the sky, even a rad storm would be better than this artificiality. He couldn't even begin to understand what Nora liked about this place. He felt irritation, why was he feeling nervous about meeting Father? Why did he even give a shit if Nora's son judged him or not? Why feel this need to be liked, to create a favourable impression on a man they both wanted dead. MacCready didn't articulate his feelings, instead he let the annoyance flow from him in the form of his characteristic grumbles.

'Who cares what Shaun wants?' MacCready had been complaining since X6-88 had interrupted them. 'Why should I have to be on my best behaviour?'

Nora turned, made shushing noises as they stepped over the threshold of the room, hearing Shaun conferring with his Doctor. A nice little tableau that he had obviously set up with the express intention of being overhead. _What a fucking amateur._ MacCready felt his nerves ease slightly. He knew Shaun was a formidable enemy, but really? That old chestnut, letting them _accidentally, on purpose_ overhear his confidential communication? He'd seen better tactics in a Grognak comic. The thought allowed MacCready a wry smile, a return to full confidence. 

Stepping forward he thrust his hand in Shaun's direction. 'The names MacCready, R.J MacCready....'

Shaun returned the handshake. Nora secretly thanked her stars for MacCready's uncharacteristically pristine hands, still immaculate from the hospital wing deep cleanse. That was one less thing for Shaun to demonise MacCready for. 

Shaun congratulated Nora for her work at Mass Fusion, retrieving the beryllium activator, blah blah blah. MacCready tuned out. Shaun's buttery smooth voice dripping with condescension was enough to send a glass eye to sleep. Eventually Shaun got to the heart of the matter. Surprise, surprise, he needed more dirty work done for him on the surface. MacCready made a superhuman effort to bite down the sarcastic reply that was boiling and seething within him in response to Shaun's request that Nora prevent the Minutemen from stopping an Institute 'kidnap'. 

He risked a small glance at Nora. The Nora he saw wasn't _his_ Nora, wasn't the tender kindly woman that couldn't think a thought without it manifesting on her face. She was calm, cool. Seeming receptive to Shaun's request. MacCready felt the urge to slow hand clap, as Nora willingly agreed to do Shaun's dirty work. _This is all an act, this is all an act...she will never condone an Institute kidnapping... We have a deal, we are going to bring this place down. We have a fucking deal._ MacCready kept an internal dialogue going, to calm him, to ground him. To stop him killing Shaun right then and there.

'So, erm, MacCready, is it?' MacCready realised Shaun was directly addressing him.

'Err, yeah?' 

'What do you say to breakfast with me before you and Mother return to the surface?' Shaun sat back smugly in his armchair, his fingers interlaced over his chest. A man totally at ease, a man used to command and having his every whim satisfied.

MacCready paused, eyed Nora imploringly. He was hungry, yes, but not hungry enough to enjoy a social meal with Shaun.

'Why thank you Shaun, that would be lovely...' Nora had agreed before MacCready even had the chance to politely decline. Shaun was talking into some sort of PA system, asking for breakfast for three to be sent to his quarters. MacCready cringed internally.

The breakfast arrived on trays, and the synth worker laid it out upon the table. MacCready felt hunger rising in him, despite the situation. He hoped that the food on offer would be a higher calibre than the gruel he had endured in the hospital wing. It certainly looked good. Fresh buttered toast, some sort of egg, porridge. Maybe having breakfast with the Director of the Institute wouldn't be such an ordeal after all.

The three of them sat down at the table. The cutlery and plates immaculate, gleaming and un-chipped. Shaun poured an amber liquid he called 'tea' into cups and MacCready took a polite sip.  
Urgh, fuck it tasted like cat's piss, or what he assumed cat's piss to taste like. He gulped it down, trying not to wince. He'd tasted worse on his travels, but not much worse. 'Umm, lovely,' he looked at Nora, feeling the urge to giggle starting to form. Nora glared at him. 

'This tea,' she informed MacCready, 'Is manufactured here at the Institute, they try to recreate what tea was like before the war. I'm not sure they're _quite_ there yet though....'. MacCready thought he could detect the merest hint of a smile behind Nora's words.

Never mind, perhaps the food would make up for the tea. MacCready bit down into a slice of the buttered toast. _Holy fuck! It was worse than the tea. How the fuck could they get toast so wrong_? He looked around the table to make sure that he wasn't the victim of some practical joke pulled by Nora and Shaun. Not likely but what other explanation could there be? They were politely chewing on their toast making every indication they were actually _enjoying_ it. Or at least tolerating it.

'So, err, Shaun, this toast.. it's kind of unique tasting?' MacCready tried his best to be polite. 

'Ahh yes, we are rather proud of our food simulation here at the Institute...'

Wait... what _food simulation_..? 

'Yes,' Shaun continued, taking MacCready's stunned expression as an awed silence, 'Most of our food here at the Institute is manufactured from a highly nutritious fungus we cultivate here. We flavour it with some of the plants we are able to grow, and try to make it as appetising as possible..' Shaun seemed pretty proud of this abomination that he called 'food'.

MacCready made the appropriate noises, whilst pretending to enjoy the rest of his breakfast. Eat doctored fungus for the rest of his life? No thank you. He'd had enough of that at Little Lamplight to last a lifetime. The thought of enduring this crap every meal time made him want to hurl. Another strike against the Institute.

The meal seemed to take several lifetimes. Between the excuse for food and Shaun's ramblings MacCready felt he was going to crack and run screaming from the room. Eventually he was saved by Nora rising from the table and beckoning MacCready to do the same. As MacCready rose from the table he instinctively genuflected in Shaun's direction. _Oh God, the dude had him kow-towing now_. MacCready was uneasy at the hold Shaun had over well, just about everybody. Himself included apparently. Definitely time to leave.

They said their goodbyes to Shaun and made their way out.

On the way to the teleportation chamber Nora gave MacCready the grand tour of the Institute. He saw nothing to contradict his first impressions. This was a place he would not _could not_ live. Better to live a short starburst of a life on the surface than fritter your life away in this antiseptic rat hole. Sure, he was used to living underground, but not like this, not in a world of pristine white purity. 

He met people, lots of people. Nothing to tell between them than the accent colours on their lab coats. He could almost smell the fear radiating from them as they shook his hand. He was a strange gaudy creature to them. Exotic, as clean as his clothes now were they still carried with them the whiff of danger, the evidence of life or death struggles. Every rip and burn mark telling a story they didn't dare to hear. The rows of bullets along his thigh drew their eyes, the children stared at him open mouthed. 

They might as well have put him in a cage like those monster gorillas. An object of curiosity, teach the children the dangers of the surface. _Observe!_... Wasteland man... see how malnourished he is, see his ruined teeth, see him gaze at you with eyes full of pent up rage. A cautionary tale, don't ever end up like this...The Wastelanders are not like us, they are sub-human, sub-synth.

'MacCready? Are you okay?' Nora's question stirred MacCready from his revelry.

'Um yeah? Sorry. Just wondering when we get to leave this place?' MacCready had had more than enough of gawking eyes on him for one day.


	3. The Minutemen

MacCready and Nora teleported to Graygarden, the settlement closest to the kidnapping crisis. They grabbed a few supplies from the Mr Handys before making the short journey to the homestead where Wallace was holed up, a stand-off between the Institute and the Minutemen taking place.

On the short walk MacCready took the opportunity to accost Nora, to check on her plans. 'So, you ready to help the Minutemen or are you going to still insist on working for the Institute?'

Nora glared at MacCready, 'I will decide the best course of action once I get there, _if that's quite all right with you..._ ' They continued the rest of the short walk in resentful silence. The sun was starting to go down and long shadows painted themselves across the landscape as the pair spotted the cluster of Minutemen outside the Homestead.

Nora stepped forward, and the Sergeant recognised her instantly, greeting her with relief. The stand-off had been going on too long and he was glad to be able to delegate his responsibility to the General and her companion. Nevertheless he wasn't shy about giving Nora his opinion on the matter, and his scathing views on the Institute. The Sergeant wanted to storm the place, straight away. Nora hesitated. Eyed him with as much authority as she could muster. Tried to reason with him, insisted that the Institute wanted the same things as the Minutemen.

MacCready was standing in the shadows, listening, but stepped forward, unable to hold his tongue. His patience was crumbling with each word Nora was uttering in defence of the Institute. She was taking this beyond the brink, beyond tolerance. 'The Institute have been kidnapping people from the Commonwealth and you still think the Minutemen can work with them? You're crazy!' He spat the words out in fury. He was so vehement it gave the Sergeant pause, and brought the trio to an impasse, all eyeing each other distrustfully.

MacCready steered Nora by the arm slightly away from the Minuteman Sergeant. 'What the _fucking fuck_ was that all about?' He was hot with rage now, could hold back his words no longer.

'I thought you'd given up swearing?' Nora smirked at MacCready, infuriating him even more.

'You are unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You make this about me? End of the line Nora. You continue down this road and you're on your own. I quit. '

'But... No, oh shit, he's my son Mac. My son.' Nora wheedled. She still couldn't believe that he'd turned against her like this.

'I am so over this shit Nora, I thought you'd made your decision. And now, here, you start with all this Institute fucking _bullshit_ again?'

Nora wasn't even sure what she was thinking, what she was doing, all she knew was that if she went against the Institute now that was it, no way back. Her hand would be played out and Shaun gone forever. _Damn MacCready, damn him_. Since when was he the fucking hero of the piece? He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the Minutemen before. He'd always been adamant that it was just the two of them against the world, and to hell with everyone else. She'd gone as far with the Institute as she could. She knew their secrets, downloaded all their files. No more excuses. No more delaying tactics. MacCready had almost died bringing her letters from the settlers. She subconsciously pawed at her pocket, where MacCready's love letter sat close to her heart. 'Okay, Mac, I'm sorry...' Nora stumbled over the words, her hand raking over MacCready's sleeve, her eyes turned to his face imploringly. 'OK, I'm going to rescue Wallace. Just trust me and let me handle it my way.' She clutched his arm, turning him round to look into her eyes.

MacCready exhaled, his rage dissipating as the breath left his body. He surprised Nora, moving her tense, wound up body into his arms and kissing her on the lips. The kiss was gentle, a total shock for Nora to receive such gentle waves of love from a mouth that was cussing her moments earlier. The warmth, the familiar warmth and pattern of their love settled around her shoulders like a fur cloak. Her hands linked around the back of MacCready's neck, returning his kiss, channelling her doubts and fears into the love she felt for this man. She pressed him to her, not wanting to end the kiss, wanting to close her eyes, and kiss and kiss and kiss for eternity until the Minutemen and the Institute had all vanished. Reluctantly she broke the kiss, time to face up to things. Time to step up to the plate. 

The Minuteman Sergeant was still waiting, pretending he hadn't witnessed the argument and the kiss. Nora asked the Sergeant to stand down, informed him that she and MacCready would deal with the Institute their way. The Sergeant reluctantly agreed and gave the signal to the other Minutemen to withdraw.

Nora and MacCready walked to the door of Graygarden Homestead hand in hand. A strange way to face death and betrayal, yet it felt right and instinctive at the same time. Reaching the door they un-linked their hands, silently mouthing _'I love you'_ before they made their entrance. Nora opened the door, holding her hands aloft until she was sure Dr Enzo Thompson and his synth entourage recognised her. 

The doctor spoke, 'Thank God you're here, I was beginning to worry we might not make it out of this mess.'

Dr Thompson was wearing the same clean-room suit that Allie Filmore had insisted on wearing. He looked ludicrous, his inappropriateness rankled with Nora, 'It wouldn't have been such a mess if you'd handled it differently.'

Dr Thompson and Nora argued for what felt like an eternity, back and forth, putting off any action. This had gone on long enough already. MacCready watched, standing a few feet back from the pair. He was surprised when Dr Thompson turned and spoke to him directly, 'Can we just get on with this please?' Beneath that clean-room suit he probably wore an imploring expression.

Nora was discombobulated by Dr Thompson bringing MacCready into the conversation. So even Dr Thompson thought that MacCready was the one calling the shots? Wouldn't hurt to let him have his tuppence worth. She waited on MacCready's words. The air hung ominously, the gen 2 synths accompanying Dr Thompson clicking and whirring in the background. MacCready remained silent for a few moments, and Dr Thompson rushed to fill the silence.

'Look, I had the same intelligence reports as everyone else. No one saw this coming.' Dr Thompson was now making excuses to MacCready, who had somehow become the authority figure in this little mismatched group.

'Probably because you were too stupid to look. Now tell us where the heck we're going already.' MacCready could always be relied on not to sugar the pill, although his reply merely placed the ball back in Dr Thompson's court . 

Nora noted the restraint, the lack of swearing. This situation was intolerable. The three of them stood in Wallace's living room, the synths with their weapons at the ready. Wallace hiding behind a locked door. Nora delayed some more, by asking Dr Thompson why Wallace was so important to the Institute. The answer was revealing and damned Dr Thompson to death. The Institute had been watching Wallace for years, feeding him information, testing him. And now they wanted to take him back to the Institute to work for them, the only problem was Wallace didn't want to go. 

Taking a man against his will. A kidnap. Pure and simple. No more excuses, no more faceless victims. This was real, this was immediate and this was all the evidence Nora needed to make her decision. There was plenty about the Institute Shaun hadn't cared to divulge to her. And now he never would.

The gun was smoking in Nora's hand as Enzo hit the wooden floor. Bullet through the heart. Time stood still for a moment. MacCready staring at her. Stunned. Hostile synths. Gunfire, smoke, MacCready's battle cries. The door slammed shut on the Institute. No way back. 

MacCready and Nora sat at the table in the Homestead. Enzo Thompson's corpse and synth parts still whirring and flashing all over the floor. Nora looked at her Pip Boy. The option to teleport to the Institute flickered and vanished from the screen. It was all over. Somehow Shaun knew already. No great surprise there, he had his finger in every pie imaginable, and some beyond even their wildest imaginings. She had been banished. 

She sat numbly. She should be feeling something she supposed. She felt nothing, she felt blank. It didn't seem real. Just a small change on her Pip Boy screen. No biggie. So why was she shaking?

MacCready wasn't sure what to do. I mean what do you say to your partner who has just betrayed their son? He hadn't ever gotten round to reading that particular manual. Sometimes words were pointless anyway.

A door creaked, Nora and MacCready were both startled. Wallace appeared, looking around at the scene of devastation in his living room. 'Thanks.. I suppose.' 

'The Institute won't be bothering you again.' Nora was expecting more gratitude, but Wallace was eyeing Dr Thompson's corpse and the remains of the synths with distaste. MacCready shrugged, and started to heft the corpse over his shoulder as best he could. Nora rushed to help him and together they managed to manhandle it out of the house. They started gathering up the synth parts but Wallace raised his hand to stop them.

'Don't worry about that, umm, I want to study these contraptions.' Wallace started to ponder over a synth component. 

'So, I guess we'll be going then,' MacCready started heading for the door, beckoning Nora to follow him.

'Urr, you can stay here tonight if you like,' Wallace didn't look up from the component, 'It's pretty late..'

'Thanks, but we have all we need at Graygarden,' Nora replied and Wallace mumbled his assent, still intent on the synth component.

MacCready placed Nora's hand in his. 'Care to step outside..?'

'Yeah,' Nora allowed herself to be lead from the house. Outside the sun was dipping under the horizon, the last rays casting the long shadow of the wrecked highway gantry over the landscape. 

'So what now?' MacCready assumed a mantle of practicality. 'Graygarden? Bunk down for the night and face up to all this in the morning?'

Nora nodded silent agreement. They needed to rest, they needed to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> **Any comments/kudos gratefully received***  
> My tumblr is : [thebanquosghost](http://thebanquosghost.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic)  
> 


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